


what in the world

by lauraxtennant



Series: Ten/Rose Collection 2014 [2]
Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Crack, F/M, Fluff, Friendship, Humor, Romance, Sexual Content, Wedding Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-07
Updated: 2014-05-07
Packaged: 2018-01-23 22:11:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 9,430
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1581272
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lauraxtennant/pseuds/lauraxtennant
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ten/Rose & Master/Lucy. Not canon-compliant. The Doctor introduces Rose to an old friend and enemy, who has a surprise in store.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

"Rose, this is - well. An old school friend turned nemesis."

"You have a nemesis? What are you, Batman?" Rose snorted. She turned to the dark-haired man she was being introduced to. "Hello. My name’s Rose, Rose Tyler."

The Master raised an eyebrow as she extended her hand towards him, and then shook it warily. He suddenly flashed her a manic grin. “Hello! My name’s the Master.”

Rose pressed her lips together to hold back a laugh. “The - the Master?”

"Yes." He looked positively delighted with himself. The Doctor rolled his eyes.

"That’s even worse than his, sorry!" she giggled, jerking a thumb in the Doctor’s direction.

"Hey!"

"Oi!"

"Anyway," Rose said quickly, "What’s going on, then?"

"Did you get my message, Doctor?" the Master asked, whilst keeping his eyes trained on Rose.

"Yes." The Doctor withdrew his psychic paper. “‘Catch me if you can,’ signed ‘the Master.’ So original. So innovative. I applaud you." He put the paper away and folded his arms, rocking back on his heels. "So, I caught you. Now what?"

Rose’s gaze flittered back and forth between the two men, trying to suss them out.

The Master handed an envelope to Rose, who opened it cautiously. Reading the piece of card inside, her eyes widened. “You’re inviting us to a wedding?”

"What?" said the Doctor. He put his glasses on and practically snatched the card out of Rose’s hands. “‘The Doctor, Plus One, you are cordially invited to -‘" His eyes bugged out of his head. "You’re getting _married?”_

"Well, couldn’t wait around all my life for you, Doctor," the Master joked. "Nah, found myself a nice little human wife, just like you!"

"I’m not his wife," Rose hurried to correct.

"This is…unprecedented, " the Doctor said, his eyebrows most of the way up his forehead.

"She’s very nice," the Master said smugly. "Mine’s a blonde one, too."

"Would you cut it out, talking about me and your fiancée like that?" Rose huffed, then murmured under her breath, “‘Little human,’ ‘blonde one;’ honestly."

The Doctor glanced at the invitation again. “Lucy Saxon…”

"Where is she, then?" asked Rose curiously.

"Oh, she’s back at the TARDIS - "

"You have a TARDIS?” Rose gasped. “Hold on, Time Lord, TARDIS; I forgot to ask the important question of _how the hell are you alive?”_

"Good point, Rose," said the Doctor.

"Did a little rewriting of my biology to escape the Time War -"

"You mean you used the chameleon arch? To _hide?”_

"Well - yes. The High Council wanted me to fight. I wanted to survive."

The Doctor and the Master traded a few snide remarks about Gallifrey and the Time War, and Rose listened intently to them both, fiddling with her earring and seriously considering popping back to the TARDIS to fetch some popcorn.

"How did you survive, anyway?" asked the Master.

The Doctor sniffed. “I had to end it.”

"So you used it, then? The Moment?"

"Yes."

The Master shook his head at him. “Didn’t think you’d have it in you.”

Rose slipped her arm through the Doctor’s, easing his flinch at the Master’s words. “He had to do it,” Rose said, with conviction. That was what the Doctor had told her, and she believed in him.

"There’s really no one else left?" the Master said quietly.

"Nope. Just us chickens."

"Well, then. You have to come."

"Sorry?"

"You have to come to the wedding! If there’s no one else left, there’s no one to be my best man."

Rose turned her face into the Doctor’s shoulder and hid her grin in the sleeve of his jacket.

"Wait, what?” demanded the Doctor.

"And don’t think you’re getting off lightly, Miss Tyler. Lucy hasn’t got many friends at the moment, what with them all being so boring and disapproving about our elopement, so - "

“What?” repeated the Doctor.

" - so you, Rose, you can be her maid of honour. Yes?"

_“What?”_ the Doctor said yet again.

"Well, Rose, what do you say?"

"I - um," Rose stammered for a response. "I don’t really - Doctor?"

"Come on, Doctor, don’t be dull. We’re having the wedding in a castle on Delphinea! It’s going to be quite spectacular, if I do say so myself."

"This is either a really elaborate trap," the Doctor mused, "Or you are not who you say you are."

"Is it so hard to believe that I’ve found a woman to love and settle down with?"

"You hate humans! You used to try to kill my companions!"

"That wasn’t ‘cos they were _human_ \- well, all right, all right. Maybe I was a little…xenophobic, in my younger days. Still, Lucy is…well, she’s quite something.”

"Can we meet her, then? This famous Lucy?" asked Rose deliberately.

"What, you need proof?"

"If I’m gonna be her bloody bridesmaid, I’m gonna need to meet her first, right?"

"Ah, yes. So, you’ll do it?"

Rose nodded cautiously, shooting a glance at the Doctor, who was staring at her with wide eyes.

"Yay! And you, Doctor? Will you be in attendance?"

The Doctor coughed uncertainly. “Er…I’m not going to have to make a speech, am I? How human is this wedding going to be, exactly?”

"Human enough to appease Lucy. But let’s just say the fireworks aren’t going to be Earth fireworks. I’m thinking more…Tresdanian fireworks."

The Doctor rolled his eyes. “You know Tresdanian fireworks are against galactic law.”

The Master regarded him with a strange look. “And you know that I’ve never given two figs about galactic law. I may be getting married, Doctor, but I still have to have a little fun.”


	2. Chapter 2

"This. Is. Ridiculous," muttered the Doctor, as he stood in front of the mirror in Rose’s bedroom.

Rose rolled her eyes. He was so agitated by the entire premise of the day’s events that he couldn’t even tie his bowtie properly. “Come here,” she said, squeezing in between him and the mirror. “Let me do it.” Effortlessly, she sorted his bowtie out, and stroked her hands soothingly down his chest once she’d finished. “We’ve committed to this, now. We can’t back out.”

The Doctor nodded reluctantly, meeting her gaze. His hands found their way to her waist, his thumbs stroking the silk material of her dress quite unconsciously. “I never, not in a million years, would have predicted this situation.”

"Not the marrying sort, the Master?" Rose smiled.

"Nope." The Doctor tilted his head to the side slightly, mainly to peek at the reflection of her bum in the mirror behind her.

"Bit like you, then."

His eyebrows drew together. “I was married, actually.”

Rose swallowed, but kept the smile on her face. “To a Time Lady?”

"Yes."

"What was she like?"

He shrugged. “Nice enough. It wasn’t what you’d call a love match, though. And I - well. I left, stole a TARDIS and ran away from everything on Gallifrey.”

"Including her?"

"Oh, yes."

"See, then. You aren’t the marrying sort,” Rose teased. “Not if you couldn’t stick at it.”

"I suppose not."

Rose looped her arms around his neck, bringing herself closer to him so that the front of her dress brushed his chest. “Lucy is a saint, putting up with him, you know. She’s told me what he’s been like throughout the whole planning process for today. Absolute nightmare. ‘Lucy, can we explode the wedding cake at the reception, create a bit of a buzz?’ ‘Lucy, can we pop a little cyanide in every third plate of nibbles, might liven things up? Liven things up for me, anyway; of course, a few of our guests might end up rather dead.’ ‘Lucy, can we drop all this separate stupid human stag and hen stuff and go to a Roman orgy together instead?’”

The Doctor chuckled. “I’m amazed that she even consented to marrying him in the first place.”

"She must love him very much," Rose mused, playing with the hair at the back of his neck.

"Do you know, I think she does. And what’s even more surprising is, I believe he loves her back."

"Did you not think him capable of that?"

"Time Lords were not really known for being affectionate and loving. And the Master, well, he’s done some pretty terrible things in his past, Rose. I didn’t think he’d be able to recognise any good in himself, any way to be able to express that goodness in something as precious as love. Not after all he’s done. He doesn’t really deserve it."

"Well, I know I don’t know everything about his past," Rose said, giving him a soft smile, "But I do know that since I’ve known him, I’ve not seen him go to that dark place again."

"Yes, but he likes you." His lips twitched. "For some reason."

"Hey," Rose laughed, dropping one hand to his shoulder with a playful swat. "Anyway, you ready to do this, then? They’re probably already at the castle waiting."

The Doctor tugged on his earlobe. “This is so weird,” he murmured. “It was such a long time ago that we were friends. He has been filled with hatred for me for so long that I can’t help but wonder if he’s rigged these rings up to be some sort of bomb.” He withdrew the ringbox from his pocket and shook it at her.

"Well just in case, how about you just keep that nice and still, yeah?" Rose said, raising her eyebrows. "And I’ll just back slowly away…" She started to step backwards with a teasing smile, but the Doctor replaced the rings back into his pocket and stepped with her. Her back was almost touching the mirror, and she was looking up at him in surprise. He realised he was back to gripping her waist tightly again, holding her against him. Watching her eyes darken, he swallowed hard, and considered how to let her go and step away without hurting her feelings.

"Doctor," she murmured, and his eyes were instantly drawn to her lips. "Do you know much about human wedding traditions?"

"You’ll have to be more specific, Rose," he replied. "There are, after all, thousands of cultures and religions, all with different wedding traditions that - "

" - it’s all right, I’ll tell you which one I have in mind. See, in my time, where I’m from, there’s quite a common trend at weddings, right, where the best man hooks up with a bridesmaid."

"You just made that up," the Doctor accused.

"Did not! I’ve been to loads of weddings - "

"How many times have you been a bridesmaid?" he interjected quickly.

Rose shook her head. “Not saying I’ve _experienced_ this phenomenon before, just that I’ve witnessed it happening whilst being a guest at family weddings and stuff.”

"Ah. Right."

"Yep." She widened her eyes at him meaningfully.

"I don’t know what you’re looking at me like that, for. You’re the maid of honour."

"Same difference. In fact, it’s even more common for her to get with the best man than some ordinary old bridesmaid."

The Doctor’s lips twitched, even as his hearts were beating far too quickly to be normal. “Really?”

"Mmhmm."

"I can’t imagine that it occurs right before the ceremony, however," he pointed out. Despite his words and hesitation over the timing issues of her obvious plan, his hands slid down to her bum, cupping her curves and determining with a burst of arousal that she wasn’t wearing knickers beneath her dress.

"Well, true. I’ll give you that it’s almost always after a lot of alcohol has been consumed. And perhaps after some shared misery over ending up alone whilst everyone around them, all their friends, were getting married."

"So, the reception, then."

"Suppose so, yeah." She traced his upper arm with her fingers then shrugged. "I mean, if you can wait that long," she continued, pressing her hips into his.

He leant down and kissed her. She opened her mouth almost immediately, the tongue that tormented him on a daily basis slipping in between his lips. He pushed her up against the mirror, fearing a little for the glass when it rattled with the movement, then promptly discarding all concern that wasn’t related to how much he could get Rose Tyler to moan into his mouth.

This wasn’t the first kiss they had shared. They had been travelling together for a few years now, and every so often the frustration would get the better of them and they would snog the life out of each other. Occasionally, they even made love - though neither of them called it that, and neither of them made any sort of declaration. They were good together, though. Ever the cohesive team, they knew exactly what to do and when to get each other hot and bothered.

The Doctor knew, deep down, that however fantastic their spontaneous sex sessions were, Rose needed more from him. Not just more physical affection, but words. Some sort of assurance that whatever they were doing meant something to him, that whatever they were would be permanent and not something to be swept under the carpet as soon as he got too scared to admit where things were heading. He just didn’t know how to tell her.

He had no idea how the Master had managed to navigate having a relationship with a human woman, a relationship that was fulfilling and there for all to see, a relationship that wasn’t just a firm friendship and secret shagging marathons in the depths of his spaceship that were barely talked about in the morning-afters. How had the Master managed that, managed to admit that he’d fallen in love, managed to ask someone to marry him, when the Doctor couldn’t even kiss Rose in public?

Aware that she needed to breathe, and to try to distract himself from his thoughts, the Doctor moved his mouth from hers to trail it down her neck, nipping and sucking and not stopping until there was a dark mark on her throat. Evidence, he realised, after accomplishing this feat. He wrapped his arms tightly around her waist and rested his forehead against hers, breathing in and out slowly, trying to stop himself from fleeing the room.

He’d never left a mark before - well, not on her neck. There was something immensely satisfying about returning to his position between her legs to find a small bruise just starting to fade on the sensitive skin of her inner thigh, ready to be renewed. Similarly, if he was in the shower or the bath or in bed, alone, he would find the spot on his hip that Rose so favoured with her teeth, and press down on it. Evidence, he knew, was not what made him scared. He liked evidence. 

So long as it was hidden. The proof on her neck in this moment was there for anyone to peruse. People would know. That terrified him. When they were together in the TARDIS, when he could give in and explore her body in their beds or the library or, even, on the kitchen table, he felt safe with her. Secure that she was there, that no one but she knew of his feelings, that no one but she could take what they had away from them. The rest of the universe, unaware, did not pose a threat to them. He could bury himself inside her or he could suck her inner thigh until it reddened and purpled under his mouth, and the universe did not know, need never know.

A hickey on her neck, though, well. However irrational, this visible evidence struck the Doctor as too much like daring the universe to make a move. He didn’t even believe in superstitious nonsense; yet something about Rose, about the prospect of people knowing about them, it filled him with a fear that was partly to do with the word commitment but mostly to do with the idea of them tempting fate.

Rose squeezed his biceps gently to get his attention. “Doctor, it’s okay,” she murmured. “I’ll grab a scarf, or something.”

He tilted his head back and stared at her. “Were you in my head?”

"No, course not. You’ve not taught me how. Yet."

The Doctor closed his eyes. “Rose.”

"Mm?"

"You don’t have to wear a scarf."

"It’s okay, I don’t mind."

"Lucy would mind. It won’t go with your lovely dress."

"It’s fine -“

"No, it’s not fine," he insisted, opening his eyes again. "You - you are too good to me. You know exactly - " He cut himself off, his eyes widening with nerves when he acknowledged, "This has to stop. We can’t go on like this, it’s not fair on you."

"Shut up," she said bluntly, cupping his cheeks with her hands. "Don’t even - you don’t want to stop. We can’t stop, you know that. It feels too good to stop.”

"I didn’t mean the sex, I mean the way I keep taking and not giving and you - you just let me!"

"You give me plenty!" Rose protested.

"Bloody hell, Rose, orgasms do not equal the compassion and love you offer me."

She pressed her lips together, a sign that she was either about to laugh or that her temper was about to get the better of her. He knew from the way her nose twitched that in this case, it was to be the latter.

"I can’t believe you," she snapped. "You are the most self-deprecating man ever, and I don’t get that, I don’t get how you can be that but also be the most egotistical man I’ve ever met at the same time."

"Rose - "

"No, listen. I’m not going along with whatever this is between us because I’m so desperate for your attention that I’ll give you anything for a bit of affection in return."

"I’m not saying that - "

"And I don’t resent you for not putting a name to us. For not shouting from the rooftops that you - I don’t care. I don’t care about any of that."

"Rose - " He put his hands on her shoulders, squeezing. "Please, just - "

"You don’t just give me _orgasms,_ Doctor. You make me happy. All right? I’ve never been happier, not with anyone, not on my own, nothing. With you, this life with you, it’s where I want to be and we’re good.”

He was silent for a moment, and she let him digest what she had said. Then, quietly, dropping his hands away from her and taking a step backwards, he said, “The Master is getting married today.”

"Yes."

"To a human woman."

"Yeah."

"It terrifies me that he can do that. It terrifies me that I can lo - " He breathed out roughly, his chest constricting as he admitted, "It terrifies me that I can love you so much but not be able to do that."

Rose lifted her hands between them to enclose around his lapels, drawing him back towards her. “We don’t need to do that. I don’t even want to do that. You need to chill. All I want is to be with you. Okay?”

"But - "

"No buts. Bloody hell, Doctor, I’m only what, twenty-one? Twenty-two? I’ve lost track, a bit."

"It’s your twenty-second birthday in thirty-three days," he informed her absently.

"Right. That’s young, okay? I’m still very young. I don’t want to do all that stuff, the wedding stuff."

"Not yet," he pointed out.

"Maybe not ever," she replied. "And even if I did, way off in the future, right? Even if I did, you never know, you might’ve changed your mind by then, too. So just, stop worrying. This, the thought of us being together, is hard to get used to, I know that. But relationships _are_ hard. And I love you too. So what we’re going to do is, we’re gonna go to this wedding. I’ll do my bit with the bouquet and wedding-dress-train-holding. You’re gonna do your bit with handing over the wedding rings. We’ll witness the most bizarre wedding in the history of creation, have a bite of a hopefully-non-exploding cake, and then we’ll sneak back here so that I can shag you whilst you’re wearing this tux.” She emphasised this by yanking on his lapels again. “Okay?”

The corner of his mouth lifted up slightly. “I knew you found this tux sexy. Did you know, Rose, that fourteen per cent of our previous instances of sexual intercourse occurred shortly after I’d worn this tux?”

"No, I didn’t know that, no one else in the universe would ever know that. Only you," she said, heavy significance in her light words.

The Doctor started to smile properly, now. A soft and grateful grin. “Yeah.” He tucked a strand of her hair behind her ear. “I might also inform you that in the lead-up to twenty-seven per cent of the times we’ve had sex, you’ve not been wearing any knickers.”

Rose grinned, and shrugged a shoulder. “I’m naughty like that.”

"You really are."

"Come on, then, Doctor." She linked her arm through his. "Let’s go get involved in the wedding of the century, and afterwards…" she trailed off, then said, remembering, "Wait, shall I get a scarf, or -

"No," he interrupted quickly, eyeing the mark on her neck. "I think I - " He swallowed. "Keep it. On show, I mean. Keep it on show."

"You aren’t gonna get freaked out?"

"No."

"Promise?"

"I promise." They were silent as they made their way down the TARDIS corridors. Just as they reached the console room, upon seeing the way she looked in the soft green glow, the Doctor murmured into her ear, "Just so you know, Rose Tyler, during this entire wedding fiasco I will be thinking about the things I’m going to do to you later. I will likely not convey to you these thoughts during the progress of the day, but please don’t ever doubt, Rose, that my mind will be full of them."

"So when we’re out and about on adventures and you act all aloof and unaffected, only conceding to holding my hand and a few friendly hugs…?"

He nodded, pleased that she understood. “Yes, my thoughts? So far from pure.”

Rose made a contented giggling sound in the back of her throat. “Now _that_ makes me happy.”


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Note that for this totally not canon-compliant series, the implications that the Master mistreats Lucy in _The Sound of Drums/ Last of the Time Lords_ do not apply here. There is no domestic violence, implied or otherwise, in this series.

"Thank you for today," Lucy said to Rose, giving her a quick hug. "It was nice to have you here to help me keep an eye on my new husband. And thanks for talking him out of exploding the cake."

Rose laughed. “Yeah, he’s quite a handful. Time Lords are like that.”

They both looked towards said Time Lords, who were standing nearby currently arguing about the properties of Ascopian glue. The women shared a fond smile.

"So, you and the Doctor," Lucy said next.

"Yeah?" replied Rose, reaching up to fiddle with her earring.

"Harry said that the Doctor refused to tell him what you are to one another."

Rose nodded. “That sounds like him.” She sat down at the table, and gestured for Lucy to join her. They were currently at the Master and Lucy’s wedding reception, and everyone else was up dancing having finished the four course meal of various alien delicacies.

"I mean, it’s obvious that you’re both besotted. And, well, you let slip to me the other day that you’ve been sleeping together." She paused, smiling, then said, "And don’t think I haven’t noticed the mark on your neck."

Rose blushed. “Yeah…”

"But have you talked about it? The two of you?"

"We did, actually. This morning."

"Oh!"

"Mmm." Rose cast another look in the Doctor’s direction, then lowered her voice. "I think he was a bit freaked out by the wedding."

"Why? It wasn’t _his_ wedding. Harry didn’t even have second thoughts.”

"No, I think that was the problem. He’s freaked out by the fact that the Master’s done the whole domestic thing whereas he can’t. He’s known him since they were young, and he’s completely taken aback by this whole event."

"He loves me," Lucy said quietly. "He does, Rose. I didn’t force him into it."

Rose took a sip from her champagne glass. “I know he does, and I know you didn’t force him. That’s what’s weird for the Doctor. The Master is completely and voluntarily expressing his love for you through…well, through a mostly-human wedding.”

"He has these moments, Rose, where I really think that all this is saving him from himself."

"What?"

"Like you said, the Doctor’s known Harry for so long. Way before he was my Harry. And there are these times where I see glimpses of the man I think he used to be - "

"He’s never hurt you, has he?" Rose interrupted quickly.

"No, no. Never. I don’t think he ever could." She paused. "He loves me," she repeated.

"I know."

"It’s just that…well, he used to plan things like - like taking over worlds and hurting people, didn’t he? When the Doctor knew him. And sometimes I can see how hard he’s worked to suppress all that. I help him be better."

Rose smiled, and stroked Lucy’s arm. “You really do.”

"He says I stop the drums."

"The drums?"

"In his head. He had this never-ending drumbeat in his head when I first met him. He let me listen to it."

"He let you into his mind?" Rose asked curiously. She couldn’t help but feel a twinge of jealousy, because the Doctor had never instigated a telepathic connection with her, not even when she’d asked him about it during several of their pre-coital chats. She knew he was aroused by the idea of being with her in that way, she could tell that it turned him on when she would speak about it during foreplay, but he held back from seeing it through.

"He did. I heard them. And he went all quiet, his eyes widening, and I asked him what was wrong."

"And what happened then?"

"He said that whilst I was in his head with him, he couldn’t hear the drums."

Rose raised her eyebrows. “Wow, so like, the telepathic connection between the two of you cures it? Soothes his mind?”

"Yes. It’s - " She paused, smirking to herself. "It’s half the reason why we are so…frequently, well…you know."

"Intimate?" Rose grinned.

"Mmm," confirmed Lucy, a flush coming over her pale cheeks. "It’s not just good for him, either. It feels…oh, Rose, you _have_ to ask the Doctor to experience it with you.”

Rose bit her lip, unsure. “I’ve sort of asked him before. He just - brushes me off, really. I dunno if he thinks I couldn’t handle it, that I’m just not able to form that connection at all, or if he’s just worried it won’t be enough.”

Lucy shook her head, and squeezed Rose’s hand in comfort. “He’s probably only worried that he’ll like it too much. It’s a bit addictive.”

"Seriously?" Rose laughed.

"Yep!"

Rose snorted and they shared a giggle, and then she felt the Doctor’s hands come to rest on her shoulders. She lifted her head to smile up at him, and found him gazing at her happily. “Earlier I promised that I’d dance with you at least once this evening,” he reminded her. 

He had indeed promised her that, after she’d watched the Master and Lucy share their first dance and complained good-naturedly that she never got any of that. She stood, and looped her arms around his neck. “You sure?”

He rolled his eyes. “ _Yes._ Come on, I can deal with a little public dancing.” He paused. “Of this variety, anyway.” She smirked and he unhooked her arms from around him to lead her to the dancefloor.

Ducking into the throng of dancing couples, the Doctor’s hand tightened around hers, and then he pulled her in close to him, wrapping an arm around her waist. The music currently playing was something jazzy, and as they danced together, he kept his gaze intently focussed on hers. They remained silent, simply looking at one another and moving to the melody, soft smiles on their faces.

The Doctor looked so relaxed in this moment that Rose carefully murmured, “Doctor, can I ask you something?”

He drew her closer to better hear her over the music. “Yeah?”

She fiddled with his lapel with her thumb and forefinger, her other hand firmly on his shoulder. “I was just talking to Lucy about telepathy.”

"Oh?" he said, and both of them heard how he squeaked out the word.

Rose nodded. “Has the Master said anything to you about the drumbeat in his head?”

"The what in his head?" asked the Doctor, his eyebrows drawing together.

"The drums. Like, I think how some people hear…voices, he hears this drumbeat all the time. Or, at least, he used to hear it all the time. Lucy says that forging a telepathic connection to her when they - well, you know - helps to fade out the drums."

"He’s never mentioned anything, no."

"What about you? You don’t…you don’t hear drums, do you?"

The Doctor stroked his thumb against her hip in a reassuring manner. “No, I don’t. I would’ve told you if I did. I don’t know why he hears that. But it’s not something that’s usual for Time Lords. And I doubt he’ll tell me why - well, I doubt he even knows himself.”

Rose bit into her bottom lip hesitantly.

"What?" prompted the Doctor.

"He isn’t - ill, is he?"

"I don’t know."

"I mean, from what you’ve told me about him in the past - "

"I don’t know, Rose."

"Lucy says he’s good to her. That they’re happy."

The Doctor looked over Rose’s shoulder and noticed that the Master and Lucy had joined the dancefloor too. Currently, the Master was twirling Lucy about and reeling her in against him in exaggerated and lively movements. Both of them were laughing. The Doctor smiled. “Yeah, I think that’s true.”

"Do you think he’ll stay with her? That he’ll keep being…well, good?"

The Doctor met Rose’s gaze again, and gave a tiny shrug. “I hope so,” he admitted. “It’s so refreshing to have a conversation with him where he’s not trying to kill me.” Rose squeezed his shoulder sympathetically. The Doctor pulled her even closer, wrapping her up in a hug as he swayed them back and forth. “You look beautiful, Rose. Did I say that yet?” he whispered in her ear.

She shivered. “You said this morning that I had a lovely dress.”

"Ah. Well, it is a lovely dress. And you look gorgeous in it." He trailed his hand up to the back of her neck, resting it there gently as the tips of his fingers slipped ever so slightly into her hair. "Your hair looks nice up like this, but, well," he seemed to struggle to continue, and sighed.

Rose finished for him, “You want me to take it down? So you can run your fingers through it.”

"Not here," he murmured.

"What time can we leave?"

"Soon." He paused, then shook his head, his cheek brushing against hers. "No, now. Let’s leave now."

"Are you sure? Isn’t it sort of rude of us to leave so early?"

"It’s not early. We’ve been here hours. And, um." He cleared his throat. "Remember those - those - those thoughts I told you I would be having all day?"

Rose buried her nose into his neck and he felt her smile stretch wide, felt it against his skin. “Yeah,” she breathed out happily. “Yeah, let’s go home.”


	4. Chapter 4

"It went well, didn’t it?" Rose said happily, as they strolled hand in hand back to the TARDIS.

"It did! The Master was on his best behaviour, it seems."

"As were you."

The Doctor frowned. “When am I ever not?”

Rose looked up at him with raised eyebrows. “You don’t want me to answer that, do you?”

"No, best not," he conceded with a sheepish grin. He bumped his shoulder against hers. "I didn’t know who any of those guests were, though. Do you think he hired them?"

"What, you think they were actors?" Rose laughed.

"Could be!"

Rose shook her head at him. “All right, maybe. I didn’t really talk to them, to be honest. Just Lucy. Did you notice how she still calls him Harry? Even though she knows his real name, now?”

"I think he likes that," the Doctor said. "I think in her eyes, it is his real name, and that he likes that.”

Rose sent him a wry look. “You’re not gonna start asking me to call you Bob or something, are you?”

"Nooo," he laughed loudly. "Definitely not. I’m rather partial to the way you say my name."

"And you don’t want me to know the one you were given as a kid? Before you chose ‘the Doctor,’ I mean?"

"Nope. I don’t like it. And I don’t - that part of my life wasn’t - " he cut off, inhaling softly. "My childhood isn’t worth remembering. A lot of my life isn’t, actually. But I like who I am now." His thumb stroked against hers. "I like who I am when I’m with you."

They’d reached the TARDIS, now, but before he could enter, Rose pulled him down for a quick, chaste kiss. “It’s okay, no one’s around,” she murmured, before giving him a peck on the cheek. Easing him into it, she thought. He turned his head, though, before she could pull away, and returned her kiss with one to her lips. Then, he unlocked the doors and led her inside.

Rose smiled and followed him up the ramp, admiring him as he took off his suit jacket and flung it on the jumpseat. She walked over to it whilst he piloted them into the vortex, sitting down and pulling the jacket into her lap, stroking the fabric as she folded it neatly. She looked up to see him watching her with an amused but fond expression on his face.

"Shut up," she laughed. He moved over to her, took the jacket from her hands, and laid it over the back of the seat. Then, he placed his hands lightly on her knees, and pulled her legs apart to stand in between them.

As his fingers slipped beneath the hem of her dress, lifting it up her thighs, he said, “You were wonderful today.”

"You were pretty good, too. I was worried you’d embarrass me and drop the rings," she teased.

"Their vows were ridiculous," he commented, planting his hands firmly on her hips and tugging her forwards to the edge of the jumpseat.

She tilted her back, though, so that she was half-reclined and staring up at him, biting her lip.

"What?" he asked.

"Roll up your sleeves," Rose said quietly, her eyes twinkling. She lifted her legs up and crossed them behind him, so that her calves rested on the backs of his knees, keeping him where he was whilst he did as she asked.

"Better?"

"Much," she breathed out roughly, trailing her fingers along his forearms. "Take off the bowtie."

He did, and started to withdraw it from his collar, but she stopped him with a squeeze to his wrist. “No, leave it so that it dangles down a bit.”

The Doctor chuckled. “What am I, your dress-up doll?”

"Mmhmm. Think we need to…" she murmured, unbuttoning half of his shirt. She leant back and perused him again. "Oh, I know." Then, she undid his trousers, and pushed them down his hips.

He gazed at her whilst she accomplished these tasks, stroking one hand through her hair to pull it free from the clips and pins. “Rose?”

"Just need to check something." She pulled one side of his pants down a smidge, just to see the jut of his hip. "Ah, good."

He grinned, suddenly. “You do that too?”

"What?"

"Check to see if the mark’s still there."

When she looked up at him, a light flush stained her cheeks and her eyes were very, very dark. “It’s…”

"Rose Tyler, I had no idea you were so possessive," he teased, trailing one finger down the curve of her neck.

"It’s not about possession," she defended quietly. "It’s about…proof."

The Doctor made a funny noise in the back of his throat. “Did you know, Rose, that yesterday someone could have asked me the question ‘Could you love Rose Tyler anymore than you do right now?’ and I would’ve said, ‘Impossible!’ And yet, in this moment - Rose, you just - ” He paused, and made sure she was looking him right in the eye when he told her, “Rose, you make it so easy to fall and keep on falling.”

Rose’s lips twitched. “Yeah?” she murmured, her mouth going dry.

"Yeah," he confirmed, with a grin. Abruptly, he slipped his hands back under her dress and grasped the tops of her stockings . "Lift up?"

She tilted her body again and dropped her legs from around him so that he could tug the stockings down, one leg at a time. She kicked off her heels to help him get rid of them properly. He spread her legs once he’d finished and grinned, poking very gently at the fading mark on her inner thigh. “It’s been three days and thirteen minutes since I did this.”

Rose’s brow furrowed. “Just three days?”

"Yep."

"You do realise that this is happening more and more frequently, don’t you?"

"Mm," he agreed, dropping to his knees and tugging her into position.

"I mean, used to be just the occasional thing - occasional _fling_ ," she reasoned. "Lately we can barely go a week without - "

"Rose," he interrupted softly, squeezing her ankle. "I thought from what you said this morning that you didn’t want us to stop."

"I don’t," she said quickly, running her hand through his hair in what she hoped was a reassuring way. "Just been thinking, that’s all. Wanted to check that all what we’ve said today…"

The Doctor dropped a tender kiss to her knee. “I want to do the things we do with one another for however long - for however long you want that, too.”

Rose smiled. “Me too.” She threaded her fingers more firmly into his hair and moved his head so that his mouth hovered over her thigh. He threw her a wink before tilting his head and sucking firmly on the sensitive skin.

Letting out a long moan, Rose rested her head against the back of the jumpseat, closing her eyes tightly when the Doctor’s mouth moved even higher, his tongue slipping out to taste the wetness that had already been gathering there for some time. When she felt his hands under her knees, lifting her legs onto his shoulders, she gasped out his name, completely overcome with arousal.

In a brief moment of clarity a few moments later, though, she noticed him shifting, and realised that the grating must be killing his knees. “Wait, wait,” she exhaled roughly, pulling his head away. “This is uncomfy,” she told him, knowing that he’d only brush off her concern if she specified that it was him she was worried about, “Let’s take this somewhere else?”

He turned his head and wiped his mouth on her thigh, right over the spot that had been darkened by his teeth, then adjusted her legs, and jumped up. As he did so, the trousers that she’d undone for him earlier fell completely down, and she burst out laughing.

Grinning at her, unembarrassed, he toed off his converses and kicked the trousers aside, then held out his hands. She grabbed on and he hauled her to her feet.

He planned on following through with her suggestion, planned on leading her to his big, comfy bed and bringing her to a spectacular orgasm with his tongue, but then she pulled on his dress shirt, dragging him down to meet her lips in a hard, wet kiss, and he wrapped his arms around her, completely distracted from his intended quest.

Rose tilted her hips so that they were pressed together as firmly as possible, scratching down his back before slipping her hands beyond the waistband of his pants to cup his arse, rocking him into her. His mumbled, “Fuck,” into her mouth sent another sharp spark of arousal through her and she determined that she absolutely needed him inside her within thirty seconds. She told him this.

"Where? Your room? Mine? Which is closest?" he replied roughly, kissing her chin and jaw and neck and raking up the back of her dress with his hands.

"No. In here," she gasped, pushing him backwards. Then, she span them around, and leant against the console. "Right here."

The Doctor’s eyes went wide.

"Come on, don’t tell me you’ve never thought about it."

"But it’s not exactly any more comfy for you than the jumpseat - " he tried to reason, but Rose just smirked and turned around, her hands finding some purchase on a hopefully-not-destructive lever on the console.

The Doctor growled under his breath and closed the distance between them, his hands going to her bum and squeezing. “Tell me if I push you down too much and your breasts get too squashed,” he said close to her ear, as he tugged down his pants and freed his erection.

Rose laughed. “I will.”

He took himself in hand and Rose widened her stance, feeling his fingers at her entrance. Adjusting slightly to get the most efficient angle, the Doctor tilted his hips and eased his cock into her. Rose groaned as he slowly slid inside, and when he was in as far as he could go, his chest pressing against her back and her chest hovering just above the console, she clenched down on him deliberately. He let out a curse and moved out of her, only to slam back in a moment later. He straightened his posture as he set the pace, his hands sliding up and down her back, under her dress and over, before coming to rest on her hips.

Rose wanted to touch him, wanted to reach her hand back and grab his arse and urge him to go faster, harder, deeper, but her position made it difficult. Instead, she carried on clinging to the console and vocalised her encouragement. “Fuck, yes. More, Doctor.”

He used his grip on her hips to bring the pace up another notch, pulling her back onto him, then one of his hands left that position to seek out her clit. A few weeks ago when he’d touched her here, he’d done so through the fabric of the white cotton dress she had been wearing. They’d been lounging in the library after a trip to the beach, when play-fighting over the fact that the sand they’d accidentally brought back with them was everywhere quickly turned into something else, as things tended to do more and more often when they were in a room alone together. Point was, he remembered just how hard she had come thanks to that added friction of fabric, so he made sure to do the same thing in the here and now, touching her through her dress, rubbing in tight circles like she did to herself, when she let him watch her.

Rose’s cries grew louder and the Doctor’s expression of concentration melted into a silly grin, feeling accomplished. The sound of her swearing and the sound of him moving inside of her made his rhythm falter, and he growled out her name in warning. Rose got there first, though, making nonsense sounds as her pleasure peaked, the spasms from her orgasm pulling him swiftly into his own.

They slid down to the grating together, shuffling so their backs were against the console, Rose pressed into the Doctor’s side and his arm around her as they fought to get their breath back.

Rose tilted her head and rested it against his shoulder, still panting softly. “Fuck, we’re good at that.”

The Doctor barked out a laugh. “Yes we are,” he agreed proudly. He dug into his pocket for a few tissues and did some strategic cleaning up of himself and Rose.

"You know what I think?" Her fingers slipped into the gap in his shirt, trailing through his chest hair. She watched as his chest puffed out as he breathed in, and smiled, liking the way he seemed to lean into her touch.

He chucked the tissues aside. “What?” he prompted, stroking her upper arm with his thumb to get her attention.

She tore her eyes away from his chest and met his gaze. “I think we can safely say that we’re the first best man and bridesmaid to shag over the console of a time and spaceship.”

"Really? You think so?"

"Yep."

"Hm. Quite an accomplishment."

"Yeah."

"We should celebrate."

Rose grinned, and her fingers danced south. “Well, I never did get a chance to sort out your hip, did I?”

He laughed. “You can absolutely do that. Give me a few minutes though.” He angled his head so that it rested against hers.

"Yeah," she agreed, humming happily. "Doctor?"

"Yeah?"

"Can we move? My dress is halfway up my back and the grating’s gonna leave imprints on my bum."

The Doctor snorted in amusement and buried his nose in her hair. “I love you,” he murmured.

"Love you too."

She could hear the smile in his voice when he replied, “Come on, then, let’s get up.” They shifted apart, both groaning at their aching muscles as they helped each other to their feet. After adjusting their clothing a bit, they walked out of the console room together, their hands swiftly meeting and their arms swinging between them.

"Doctor, can I ask you something?"

"Yep."

"I don’t want it to spoil tonight."

He regarded her with a curious look as he backed into his doorway, pulling her through with him. “Why would it?”

She shrugged a shoulder and remained silent for a moment whilst they got ready to get in bed, her lifting her dress off, him getting down to his pants. They slipped under the covers, both certain there would be more scenes of a sexual nature tonight so not bothering to get washed and into their pjs.

Rose turned on her side to face him, and the Doctor mirrored her action, smoothing his hand down her body from shoulder to thigh. “Go on, Rose. Ask me.”

"Okay," she breathed shakily. "Will you ever tell me why you don’t want to do the telepathic stuff with me?"

His eyes fluttered shut for a moment, but there was a faint smile on his lips. “I had a feeling that’s what you were going to say.”

"Well…will you?"

He opened his eyes and squeezed her hip. “I’ll tell you now.”

A small wrinkle formed between her eyebrows. “Oh.”

"Well, that is, I’ll tell you that I - listen, please don’t feel rejected, Rose. I _do_ want to - to explore that sort of stuff with you, but, well, it’s complicated.”

"Not for the Master and Lucy it isn’t," Rose couldn’t help but interject.

The Doctor sighed. “We’re not them. Don’t go comparing and contrasting, Rose, it’s not - “

"I know," she said quickly. "Sorry. It’s just, they’re the only couple I _can_ compare us to. No one else I know has a Time Lord for a - for a person.”

"For a _person?_ ”

"Ugh, I couldn’t think of the right word. A - a thingy. You know."

He smirked. “Lover?”

"Sounds weird."

"Not boyfriend."

"No."

"Why is the English language so deficient in this regard?" the Doctor mused. "The connotations of most of the synonyms are either juvenile or cheesy. Apart from - " he cut off abruptly, cheeks going a bit red.

Rose looked bemused. “What?”

He sniffed. “Nothing.”

She had a hunch. “Look, Doctor, it’s fine. The Master and Lucy can have the telepathy thing, and they can have the husband-and-wife thing,” she said, and his face flushed further so she knew she was on the right track. Their friends didn’t have the problem of trying to come up with words for what they were; they’d just got married. The terms were easy to define. The Doctor and Rose didn’t have that. “I don’t care. Okay? I don’t care. We have other stuff.”

"Like what?" he murmured.

"Like shagging on the console."

He scrunched up his face. “Not that I want to even say these words, but, pretty sure they probably do that too.”

"All right…um…" Rose frowned, trying to think of something that was just for them, but everything she thought of, no matter where it ranged on the scale from tender and gentle to fucking in the various positions in that alien sex position book they’d found, she was quite sure that their friends were not novices in any way, shape or form either. "Shit," she said.

"We’re gonna have to invent some new stuff, you and I," the Doctor considered.

"We really are," she laughed. She moved closer and wrapped her arm around his waist, hugging him to her. "Do you think the Master and Lucy will have kids?" she asked quietly, solemnly, speaking into his chest. She felt him tense up immediately and burst out laughing, lifting her head, "I’m just teasing."

He relaxed, shaking his head at her. “I mean, that _could_ be a way to one-up them, but do we really want to go to that extreme?”

"Not really, no," she giggled.

The Doctor poked her lightly in her side. “In the future, though, Rose, if you, er. If you ever need to talk to me about that…”

"What, I could get pregnant?" she said, her eyes widening. "We never use - I’m an idiot, I just assumed we couldn’t - "

"No, shh, it’s all right. I didn’t mean there’s a chance you could, as things are - I just meant that if - well, er." He coughed, looking very awkward. "Biological clock and all that - "

Rose rolled her eyes. “Doctor. That’s years away. And not every woman - “

"I know, I know. But you could change your mind. That’s all I’m - " He looked distressed. "Let’s not talk about this right now. Just know that I don’t want to lose you because you feel like at some point you can’t talk to me about wanting - things."

"When did this talk get so serious?"

He chuckled nervously. “I don’t know.”

"Let’s just set aside this conversation for like ten years, and change the subject."

"Okay," he agreed quickly. Rose laughed at his enthusiasm, and he smiled back sheepishly.

They stared at each other for a few moments, wondering what to change the subject _to._

Then the Doctor sighed, realising he’d still left Rose without a proper answer to her main concern. “I owe you an explanation, I think.”

"You don’t have to, not if it’s too hard."

"No, I - I do." He let out a long breath, and slid his arm up her back, his hand cupping the nape of her neck gently. Rose knew, from their previous encounters in bed, that he liked to do that, liked feeling her hair tickle his wrist, liked the smooth skin his palm was touching, liked the way it made Rose shiver to have him hold her in this way.

"Okay," she whispered, readying herself.

"You know from our…talks. That is. Er, our chats when we’re - "

"When we’re doing stuff to each other, yeah," Rose finished for him with a grin.

"Yes. Well, you’ve spoken about the telepathy stuff at times and I’ve almost taken you up on it because…lots of reasons, really, but mainly because you are so bloody nice about it and somehow you realised ages ago it’s something I want."

"It’s ‘cos you do this thing," she said, "When you’ve been nuzzling my neck and then you move up and kiss my cheek and my temple and rest your forehead there."

"…I do that?"

"Yeah."

"I mean, I know I do that, but… I do that often enough that you pieced that together?"

She shrugged modestly and she saw his eyes sparkle at her. “What?” she asked.

"You get an orgasm for that in a minute."

Rose laughed, “Oh, okay. Thanks. Looking forward to it.”

"Good. Anyway, so you know that, blah blah blah, but you’re confused as to why I can’t do it, and one reason is I’m nervous. That’s the simple reason. Completely nervous and scared and cowardly."

"Oh…"

"But the other reason is this. After - after initiating the telepathy in the bedroom, it…lingers. After the sex, I mean. It’s not as strong, of course, and it’d fade if we don’t touch for a while, but it leaves an impression." He stroked her neck with his thumb. "How you shiver when I do that, it’s how it would feel to me, for you to have been in my head."

Rose considered this a moment, playing with his chest hair, then looked up and met his gaze. “I have questions about, like, privacy and stuff. But aside from wondering about that, I’m open to this. Why are you acting like I should be put off?”

He sighed. “It’s not that.”

"Then, what? If it feels nice for you, the result of my mind touching yours, if that’s comforting - why would we _not_ do that?”

"Rose, if we did it, and if we kept the connection strong and fresh and vibrant by being physically intimate with each other often, then how am I supposed to deal with it when I _don’t_ have that any more? When I don’t have _you_ anymore?”

"Doctor - "

"Look, I’m sorry to be morbid, but I’m already going to feel like I’ve lost a limb by losing you. The mind stuff, that’s, that’s a whole other type of pain, something I don’t know if I can - "

"Okay," she said, blinking quickly. She pressed a quick kiss to his chest, between his hearts, and tried to soothe him, running her hand up and down his back. "We don’t have to. If it’ll be too much, then we don’t have to."

He made a soft sound of frustration. “I didn’t mean to upset you.”

"I know, I’m fine."

"But…you said that Lucy helps the Master, helps with that drumbeat you were telling me about. But he’s not thinking of the consequences long-term. He’s not considering how he will cope when she’s gone from his head, because he’s the sort of person who can push away those considerations for another day. A day that will come too late."

"Yeah." She was quiet for a moment. "But he could move on, find - find someone else , who could also - "

"No."

"What do you mean, no?"

"You’re not talking about him, are you? You’re talking about me. And I won’t, not in that way. So, no."

"Doctor - " she started, sounding disapproving.

"If I do this with anyone, if I’m gonna let anyone into my head, it’d be you, and only you, Rose."

"You’re so bloody stubborn." He didn’t reply to that. Rose heaved a sigh. "So, where are we left, then?"

He drew her closer. “I’m not going to rule doing this with you out completely. Because it _would_ be amazing. I just need some time to think about it. I really do.”

Rose smiled, and closed the distance between their mouths in a tender kiss. “Okay,” she whispered against his lips. “You can just let me know when you’ve decided. I won’t push you on this again.”

The Doctor swallowed hard against the lump his throat. “Thank you.” He echoed her kiss with one of his own. “We’ve got a long time together for me to figure it out, anyway.”

"We do," she said. "Plenty of time."

"Not enough, but - but time."

"Yeah." She paused, then asked, "I just want to check though. What we do, even without all that telepathic side of things…it’s enough, yeah? I mean, it still feels good for you. Right?"

The Doctor chuckled. “Do you even have to ask that? Of course it is. You know exactly how fantastic we are together.”

Rose smirked and danced her hand down his front, palming the front of his boxer briefs. “Stuff of legend?”

"Indeed. It’s fortunate how sexually compatible we are - ohhh. Yes, that’s. That’s. Yes."

Feeling his erection grow firmer in her hand, Rose pressed her lips together to contain her grin.

"Think I said I owe you one first," he exhaled roughly, as her hand picked up its pace.

"Think I don’t care," she replied. "Add it to your mental to-do list and let me have some fun first." With that, she shuffled out of his arms and down the bed. She had a mark to renew on his hip, and another favourite task ahead of her. Her reward could come later.


End file.
